


Ghosts of the Aesir

by Ithildin



Series: SHIELD Team Seven [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Friendship, Gen, Magnificent Seven AU: SHIELD, Male Friendship, Origin Story, Origins, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-11 00:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1166184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ithildin/pseuds/Ithildin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SHIELD Team Seven knows that Ezra Standish has a story to tell, but the truth may surprise all of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Everyone Has a Story

**Author's Note:**

> Here we go, a real series now, the second installment of what I'm calling the SHIELD Team Seven series. For those of you reading who aren't familiar with the M7 guys, there's [a page here](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Magnificent_Seven_%28TV_series%29) with a bit of cheat sheet. If you have any questions, I'd be happy to answer them.
> 
> This story predates the TV show Agents of SHIELD, but I'll be borrowing some of those characters as we go on, like Melinda May and Victoria Hand (who is actually from the comic books, I've discovered). 
> 
> These stories have no connection to any of my other M7/Marvel series that you may or may not be familiar with. They're their own thing. 
> 
> I'm thrilled so many of you seem to be enjoying the concept, and I hope you continue to do so. Thanks so much for reading!

THE WIND WHISTLED AROUND THE HEAVY POLYMER SHEETS that encased the scaffolding that made up the corridors of the SHIELD base several miles outside the small town of Puente Antiguo, New Mexico. The makeshift complex looked as if it had been taken from the set of the movie E.T.. In reality, that wasn't much of a stretch; those who called the base home, albeit temporarily, would have fit right in studying beings from another planet. After all, that was part of the job for the agents who made up SHIELD.

Josiah Sanchez desperately wanted to be one of those agents. While he had been taken on as a member of Team 7, he had a lot of proving to do before he would qualify as an agent. Now, he worked on his first assignment: hacking into the laptop that belonged to a man that was being held in one of the secured rooms in the center of the base. The encryption was top rate, but he bet he could break it.

Meanwhile, the man in question sat at the small table in his holding cell, shuffling a deck of cards one handed, over and over. Outwardly, Ezra Standish was calm, but mentally, he was railing against his captivity, storming around the confines of the room. It was hard to tell the passage of time in the windowless holding cell, a standard interrogation technique, but he believed he'd been here nearly sixteen hours. In those hours, he'd been questioned four times; questioned, not interrogated. Ezra knew the difference. He'd been fed, the food, thank God, better than what he'd had to bear at the penitentiary for more than three years, and he'd had access to a shower and sanitary facilities. However, he knew that could all be taken away in a second if it suited his captors.

One of those captors, Agent Vin Tanner, watched Standish via the CCTV feed on a monitor in the control room, his booted feet propped up on the counter. Each time he'd questioned Standish, the man had stuck to his story: he'd just been buying Darcy Lewis a drink, he didn't know why his grandfather's ring bore markings like those found at the Bifröst site, or what a Bifröst even was, that this was all a huge misunderstanding.

Vin had to admire the guy's composure. He'd only caught a glimmer of the trapped look in Standish's eyes, when Vin had confronted him about the ring, before it was quickly marshalled. He would bet a year's pay that Standish had a story to tell. The question was, would he make getting that story easy or hard?

 

VIN SLID THE TABLET ACROSS THE DESK TO CHRIS. "Standish's background check."

Pulling the tablet to him, Chris asked, "Anything interesting?"

"I think so." Chris motioned him to continue. "Ezra Preston Standish, born in 1979 to Maude and Preston Standish, in Charleston South Carolina. Father died in 1983 of cancer. Preston Standish checks out, and his family, all the way back to Reconstruction."

"But?"

"Maude, her we can't verify even exists. Oh, the records we did find, they'd pass a cursory check, but not ours."

Chris sat up straighter. "Forgeries?"

"Seems like. Very good ones."

"There's something else," Chris stated, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Used her driver's license photo, ran it through facial recognition." He stopped, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Damnit, Tanner, just tell me!"

He jutted his chin towards the tablet. "Next page."

Chris slid to the next screen. There were two photos, side by side, one from Maude Standish's driver's license, and the other, an old sepia tinted photograph. The sepia photo had a notation under it, _Magdala Linde, on the occasion of her wedding, 1876_. He looked at Tanner, who was the epitome of the cat that ate the canary.

"Next page," he repeated, practically smirking.

Glaring, Chris did as instructed. He knew there was no dealing with Tanner when he was in this mood. This screen held the two photos from the previous page, plus one more. This was a passport photo, circa 1928, identified as Matilde Linde. "You trying to tell me these are all the same woman?"

"No—" he paused for effect "—but the computer is." Now he was grinning broadly. "Wanna take a guess as to what Standish's mom's maiden name is?"

"No," Chris snapped.

Vin shrugged, still grinning like a fool.

"Fine!"

"Linde."

"It's going to take a lot more than some computer algorithm to convince me that Maude Standish may be nearly two hundred years old."

Vin nodded in agreement. "Sure will—but it's a place to start."

 

VIN SET A CUP OF COFFEE ON THE TABLE IN FRONT OF STANDISH, sitting down in the chair across from him. "You ever do anything with those cards but shuffle 'em?"

"On occasion," he drawled, sitting back in his chair.

"How 'bout we play a few hands?"

"Alas, you find me with nothing to wager."

Reaching into his pocket, Vin pulled out a small bag, tossing it to Standish. "How's that?"

"Reese's Pieces?" Standish looked bemused.

"Have a fondness for them," Vin admitted. "Always have a bag on me. Other guys give me hell about it." He grinned broadly. "Don't know what they're missing."

Standish sat up straight. "If you're the good cop, I can assume Agent Larabee will be arriving shortly to play his role as the bad cop."

Vin laughed. "Ain't no role, Standish. Larabee comes by it naturally."

"Indeed." He looked at Vin speculatively. "You are quite the strangest candidate for a shadowy government agency."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"Just how did you end up in your present occupation?"

Shrugging, he said, "Joined the Marines, did a few tours in Afghanistan, ended up here."

"Your mother must be so proud," Standish said acerbically.

"Hope she would be proud." The smile was gone. "My ma died when I was seven, my dad was never in the picture."

Regret flashed in Standish's eyes for just a moment. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't know." He waved away the apology.

"My father died when I was four—but you'd know that, wouldn't you?—I barely remember him."

"What about your mom? She proud of you?"

Standish laughed, but it was as full of bitterness. "My mother…." He shook his head. "Let's just say that 'proud' isn't in Maude's dictionary."

"That's rough," he said sympathetically. "My ma died, but I was lucky, ended up in a great foster family when I was twelve. My foster mom's dad was Navajo, he taught me how to hunt, track, live off the land. Gave me the skills that got me into Special Ops, and eventually, to where I am now." He smiled softly, remembering his family, then gave himself a mental shake. "How about we play some poker?"

 

"SANCHEZ DID SOME GOOD WORK," Buck said approvingly to Chris. "Guess we'll see if we can't shake some apples from the tree with what he found on Standish's laptop."

Chris nodded as he finished reading the report their new teammate had prepared. "You think Standish might be a hostile?"

Shaking his head slowly, Buck replied, "My gut says no, but he's sure as hell hiding something."

"Your gut? I'm sure that will reassure Agent Hand," Chris said dryly of the highest-ranking agent in their section, and their direct report. 

Buck smiled serenely. "Victoria is a great admirer of ol'Buckling and his gut—not to mention other fine qualities I possess." The last said with more than a touch of smugness. 

Chris and Vin mouthed, "Victoria?" shaking their heads. 

"And just when did you and Agent Hand end up on a first name basis?" Chris enquired of his second in command. 

"We were paired up at that laser weaponry training course at the Sandbox a few months back. Had a real good time; she's one hell of an agent," Buck said admiringly. "And a mighty fine woman to boot."

"Can't send him anywhere," Vin said with a chuckle.

"Apparently not," Chris agreed. 

Buck grinned, twisting the end of his moustache.

Getting back to the subject at hand, Vin said, "I agree with Buck. There's more to Standish than meets the eye." 

Chris pondered for a moment, and then nodded sharply, coming to a decision. "Tanner, you've developed a relationship with him. See if you can get some answers by playing nice."

"Will do," Vin said with a tip of an imaginary hat as he left Larabee's office.

"Think he can get Standish to talk?" Buck asked.

"Standish better hope to hell he does, because he won't like the alternative."

 

"YOU VISIT SOME INTERESTING WEBSITES," Vin began conversationally. "Rising Tide, conspiracy sites, wherever the nuts are, seems like."

"It is not illegal," he protested.

"Nope, it's not, but some might say that what you do with the information you find there just might be."

Ezra just stared at Vin mutely.

"You have a real interest in history too. Don't tell me—you're in a Viking reenactment group." Vin grinned.

"Very droll, Agent Tanner."

"Though that might explain the photos you have saved. Not to mention your pick-up lines." Despite their best efforts, SHIELD hadn't been able to contain all material posted to the internet related to the Thor incident. Cellphone cameras were the bane of top-secret organizations everywhere. There were photos of Mjölnir in the desert, before agents had arrived to cordon off the area, of the fires and explosions caused by the Destroyer, and even, much to the chagrin of SHIELD, photos of Thor himself. 

"Come on, Ezra, give me something here. What made you skip out on your parole to snoop around the New Mexico desert based on information you read on some crazy website?"

"I haven't done anything illegal," he repeated, his voice tight.

"I think the authorities back in Cheyenne would disagree with that."

Jaw set, he clenched his fists. "I had hoped to return before my absence was noted. Something, thanks you and your associates, I am now unable to accomplish."

Vin sighed, leaning forward, palms up. "Listen to me, Ezra, one way or the other, you are going to tell us what we want to know. I like you; you seem like a guy who's had some rough breaks. But you don't talk to me now, I'm telling you, it doesn't get better from here."

Running a hand through his hair, Ezra shook his head slightly. "You will never believe me."

"Try me."

Ezra looked like he was preparing to step off the edge of a cliff, and he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before beginning to speak. "There is a story, one I first heard from my mother when I was a small child. A story about a place called Asgard, home of the Aesir, the gods. Except these gods, they were not myths, and Asgard was another planet. That in fact, many centuries ago, our ancestor was exiled from Asgard by Odin, the king, exiled here to our planet, which they call Midgard, doomed to live out life as a mortal, stripped of his powers. Mother would always end the story with the admonition that I must always remember the wrong done to our family, and that one day, we would find a way to return to our home, vindicated."


	2. Birthright

"ARE WE BUYING THAT?" BUCK ASKED CHRIS, as Vin joined them in the control room. "Standish's great-great three times over granddad was from Asgard?"

"I think Ezra's buying it, and for the first time," Vin said with quiet conviction.

"How's that?" Buck asked.

"His mom's been telling him the story since he was a kid, but he never really believed it till that story was splashed all over some conspiracy website. That's why he risked skipping out on his parole, why he started poking around Puente Antiguo, trying to get information from an eyewitness like Darcy Lewis." Vin shrugged. "Man had to know."

Crossing his arms, Buck leaned against the wall. "Wouldn't be the weirdest thing to happen here this month."

"No, Buckling, sure wouldn't."

Chris still hadn't said a word, letting his agents hash it out, deep in thought.

"What are you thinking?" Buck finally asked, nudging Chris's chair with one booted foot.

The leader of SHIELD Team Seven looked up at his second with piercing green eyes. "I'm thinking your gut and mine are in agreement."

"Is that so?"

"You said it, Buck, there's a story here, and I don't think Maude Standish has even told that story to her son."

"You don't believe there was some Asgardian ancestor," Vin said with certainty. "You think Maude's the exile."

Seeming to come to a decision, Chris nodded sharply. "Get HQ on the line and have them send some agents to round up Mama Standish in New Orleans. I think it's time we had a talk."

============___________________============

_TRENTON, NEW JERSEY_

THE OBJECT OF LARABEE'S INTEREST LOOKED suspiciously at the raven sitting on the fence post as she pushed open the front gate of the ramshackle old house in a neighbourhood that had seen better days. The raven cawed once, and then flew off with a rush of wings. "I hate those wretched birds," Maude Standish muttered to herself. Taking one more look around, she let herself in, closing the door behind her, and securely locking it. Inside, the house looked far better than the exterior would lead one to expect—just because it was a bolt-hole didn't mean it couldn't be civilized. 

Hanging her coat on a hook on the wall next to the door, she walked down the hall, entering the small sitting room at the end. She sat down in the armchair, across from the antique full-length mirror, every inch of her body taut with tension as she waited for Loki to make his appearance. She felt his presence before his image materialized in the mirror, and she sat up straight, marshalling her emotions. 

"My prince," she said, inclining her head.

"I am pleased to find you here, Magnhildr." A smile curved his lips. "I would have been most disappointed had you not been." The warning was clear, though his tone was even.

She waved a negligent hand. "I am your humble and obedient subject, am I not?" 

Loki laughed outright at that. "Come now; let us not overdo it, cousin."

Maude allowed herself to relax, smiling slightly. "I have the information you sought. The Midgardians call it Arc Reactor technology. I believe it may be what you seek."

"What else?"

"The power source hasn't been activated yet, but it will be soon, in a place called Manhattan, not far from here."

"You have done well, Magnhildr."

"Can you tell me something of this plan, my lord prince?" Loki had divulged very little to her regarding his plans or ultimate endgame, and Maude disliked being in the dark.

"All in good time, my lady, all in good time." 

She swallowed her frustration, and then her heart skipped a beat when he asked, "Where is your whelp? I distinctly recall you telling me he would be in attendance." 

"Ezra—" she emphasized his name "—is exploring other avenues that may benefit us." That wasn't entirely a lie. After all, it was what her son had been doing the last time she'd heard from him. The fact that he had not contacted her since that night was the real reason she'd left New Orleans, using Loki's mission as a pretext. However, Loki didn't need to know that. 

"Come to the mirror," he commanded, his voice holding a silky menace. For just a moment, she considered disobeying; fleeing the house, making sure Loki could never find her again. But only for a moment. If Loki could do as he said, and end her banishment, restore her to her rightful place, she would do whatever he asked. 

Doing as she was bid, Maude stood before the mirror, the picture of calm. She was a lady of Asgard and she would not allow Loki to see the fear that tickled at her heart. He reached out a hand, and she was no longer in the sitting room, but standing next to him on a dark plain, the stars like a cape of diamonds above them.

"You would not lie to me, would you, Magnhildr?" he whispered at her ear. 

"What would it gain me?" She looked him straight in the eye. "I want to go home, reclaim what is mine; I want my son to know his birthright. I have suffered this place far too long, Loki, and would be rid of it!"

"What is yours? Surely, dearest Magnhildr, you have higher aspirations than the bucolic lands of your father's estate in Vanaheim?"

"It would be a start," she said, holding her head high. Ever when they had been children, Loki had mocked her father's rustic origins. "You know nothing of my aspirations." 

"Now, now, cousin." He seemed to find her outburst amusing. "You always were the prickly one. I recall when last we met how melodramatic you were."

"It was my wedding, and you instigated a duel between my new husband and his cousin!" It had been 1876, and Loki had appeared quite unexpectedly at the ceremony. It had been so long since she had seen any of her kin, that she welcomed him gladly; at least until the reception. 

"An engaging bit of entertainment, I will grant you." He circled her, the staff in his hand glowing with a brilliant blue light. "Do as you are bid, and the rewards that shall await you on Asgard will be many." He stopped, looking down at her, the glow of his staff reflected in his eyes. "Fail me, and your suffering will be great." 

"I will not fail you." Loki only nodded, pressing the tip of the staff against her heart. She gasped in pain, falling to her knees onto the faded carpet, once more in her sitting room. She reached out, touching the mirror, now seeing only her own reflection.

============___________________============

NATHAN OPENED THE DOOR. If he was surprised that Chris Larabee was the one doing the knocking, he hid it well.

"Agent Larabee, what can I do for you?" he asked, motioning him into the small house on the outskirts of Puente Antiguo.

"I need a favour." Larabee cut right to the chase.

"From me?" 

Nodding, Chris handed him a small leather case, like you would store CDs in. "I need a DNA comparison run between the two samples inside."

"I kinda think that the secret government agency you work for could handle that."

"Can, but want this off the grid for now."

"And why's that?"

"If I'm right, the results could blow a man's life up, and I'm not sure I have the right to do that," Chris said bluntly. 

Nathan looked as if he were reassessing the man in front of him. "That's a good enough reason for me.'

"Can you get it done?"

Nodding, he said, "Army buddy of mine works for a lab in Las Cruces, he owes me one."

"Get him to put a rush on it."

"I'll drive down there in the morning." At the look Chris gave him, he amended, "I'll drive down now." 

Chris grinned broadly. "You're a good man, Mr. Jackson."

Nathan chuckled. "I'm coming to believe you are too, Agent Larabee."

 

AFTER LEAVING JACKSON'S HOUSE, Chris pulled out his cell, and checked in with base. "I'm on my way to Dr. Foster's, JD," he told his youngest agent. 

"Agent Ward just called in," JD said. "Maude Standish is in the wind. Buck told him that finding her is a priority."

"Damnit," he growled. "Ward's a good man, if anyone can find her, he can. Anything else?"

"Nope."

"Fine. I'll see you in the morning. Let me know immediately if Ward turns up anything." 

"Will do, boss." The call disconnected. 

Puente Antiguo was small, Chris crossing from one side of town to the other during his conversation with JD. A hundred more yards, and he was at Jane Foster's lab. The astrophysicist had asked him to come by, needing to talk to him. The building was nearly all floor to ceiling windows, having been the display room of an auto dealership once upon a time. Jane Foster had seen him approach, and was at the door as he arrived. 

"Agent Larabee, thank you for coming." She ushered him in. "Can I get you something? Coffee, a Pop Tart?" 

"I'm fine, Doctor Foster," he said, sitting down in the chair she indicated. 'You said on the phone you needed to see me?"

"I did." She sat across from him. "As I'm sure you know Eric, Doctor Selvig, accepted the position at the dark matter facility."

"I am."

"There's some energy signatures I need to study about 25 miles out of town, it may be very important to my research."

"What kind of energy signatures?" Chris sat up straight.

"They seem similar to what I observed before the appearance of the Einstein-Rosen Bridge that brought Thor here. I'd like to place instruments to triangulate the readings, but with Eric gone, I'm short a person." She stopped, pulling at her fingers nervously. 

"Go on, doctor" Chris encouraged. 

"I'd like to use Nathan Jackson, he's helped me in the past, and is totally reliable."

"Fine," Chris replied.

But Jane didn't seem to hear him as she rushed on, "He knows my instruments, and since Darcy told him everything that happened, and he's not locked up somewhere, that must mean he passed whatever security checks you did, and honestly, my word should count for something—" 

Chris grinned, siting back in his chair, knowing that eventually, Jane Foster's brain would catch up with her mouth. 

"And I really think—" She paused, pressing her lips together. "Wait, did you say fine? Oh, you did." She looked sheepish. "Thank you, Agent Larabee, that was very—" She stopped, as if searching for something.

"I think the word you're looking for is 'reasonable', ma'am." 

A smile appeared on her face. "Thank you, Agent Larabee." 

"You're welcome, Doctor Foster. And I'll do you one better—I'll send a couple of my agents along. Do them good to get off the base and do something useful for a change. "


	3. The Path That's Chosen

"COME HERE OFTEN, COWBOY?" 

Chris glanced over at the woman, before returning his attention to his drink. "Did you just call me cowboy?" 

"Why? Is that a problem?" She slipped onto the barstool next to him, leaning back against the bar, elbows propped on the edge. 

"Just might be," he replied, looking at her again.

"That's too bad." She snaked out a hand, sliding his shot glass towards her. "It really is." Her eyes glinted as she drained what was left of his whisky. 

Raising an eyebrow Chris signaled the bartender, two fingers raised. "You really are something else."

"So I've been told," she said with a saucy grin.

The bartender put two shots of whisky down on the bar, Chris nodding his thanks as he pushed one in front of his uninvited companion. "Thought you might like your own."

"Thoughtful," she said, winking. 

"So I've been told," he repeated her earlier words.

"I just bet you have." Running her eyes over him, she returned to her earlier words. "Seriously, you might as well be a gunslinger from the 19th century. Living over a saloon, the boots, your fondness for black; all that’s missing are the spurs."

"Who says they're missing?" His voice held a rasp smoothed with whisky. 

The woman held her palms up with a little shrug. "My mistake."

"Could show 'em to you." A wolfish grin settled on his lips.

"Best offer I've had all day."

 

"SO WHAT BRINGS YOU TO MY DOORSTEP, MELINDA?" Chris asked, pushing back a strand of damp black hair from her face. It had been nearly a year since he had seen Agent Melinda May, during a mission that their two teams had been assigned. 

Rolling onto her side, she propped herself up on one elbow. "On my way from somewhere to someplace else—you know the drill." She slipped her hand up his bare chest to lie against the back of his neck, pulling him towards her and kissing him. Smiling, she added, "And maybe I missed you, just a little bit." 

"Only a little?" he asked with mock indignation. "I'll have to rectify that." 

"Yeah, you will," she agreed, laughing. More seriously, she said, "I read the briefings on what happened here. If I didn't do this for a living, I'd never believe it."

"That makes two of us." He wrapped an arm around her as she laid her head against his shoulder. "We live in crazy times, Melinda."

"And how have you been, Chris, really?"

"I'm fine."

Chin on her hand, she tilted her head to look at him. "Are you sure? You grew up not far from here; you have a lot of history, a lot of memories."

Chris sighed. "That's the past, Melinda."

"Is it?" She looked at the photo on the nightstand, Chris and a boy that seemed to be about 12, sitting on an ATV. "How often do you see Adam?"

Sitting up against the headboard, he scrubbed at his hair. She followed suit, leaning against him. "I get my head shrunk enough by command, Melinda, don't need it from you too."

"You know damn well that wasn't my intention! I care about you, Chris. Sometimes I think if I hadn't recruited you into SHIELD, after you left the Marines, that maybe you'd have a real life, one you'd spend with your son."

"That was never going to happen, Melinda. You know that." He kissed the top of her head.

"Do I?"

"Adam was 4 when I was deployed that last time, he was nearly 6 when I was captured, and 7 by the time I got out of that hellhole. Almost another 6 months before I got to go home. But the home I left, the family, they were gone. You know all this," he said harshly. 

"I'm sorry, Chris, I am."

"Know that too. I see Adam when I can. It's better for him the way it is. He has a family, the only one he's ever really known." As she embraced him, he whispered, "It's for the best."

============___________________============

"OKAY, LET'S GET THIS GEAR IN PLACE," JD Dunne instructed his crew.

"Yes, sir," Josiah Sanchez replied.

JD looked at him sharply, thinking the older man was humouring him, but all he saw on Sanchez's face was satisfaction. Apparently, the man didn't think it was beneath him to be schlepping gear for Doctor Foster, under the command of man young enough to be his son. This was good. Chris had told him he was in charge, and that he wanted a full report of JD's opinion of both Sanchez and Standish. 

"Standish," JD called out. "You need to actually pick up the sensors to place them." Ezra Standish looked at JD from where he leaned against the Humvee, not seeming inclined to the task to which he had been set. Chris had sent Ezra along with the rest of the party, wanting to observe him outside the holding cell he'd inhabited the last several days. "Get moving, Standish, or you can go back to your cell," he ordered, doing his best imitation of his CO.

Ezra sighed long-sufferingly, glancing down at the tracking anklet that Vin Tanner had attached before he'd been released from the compound. "I have always abhorred work details." 

"Now why doesn't that surprise me?" Nathan Jackson said, as he planted a sensor into the rocky ground. 

Ezra looked balefully at the other man. "Some of us were not meant for menial labour, Nurse Jackson." 

Nathan turned to Ezra angrily. "No, some us were made for punching out obnoxious ex-cons!"

Ezra merely rolled his eyes at Nathan's threat, still showing no inclination to follow JD's order.

Before Nathan could respond, JD barked, "Now, Standish!" 

"Very well," Ezra replied, making it sound as if he were doing JD a favour. 

"That's better," JD said as Ezra headed for the stack of sensors. 

"I love it when you're all bossy, JD," Darcy said admiringly from where she stood next to Nathan, holding what looked like a tablet computer, that beeped and hummed as she pointed it at the sensor Nathan had set. "It's very sexy."

JD blushed bright red. "Thank you, Darcy…Ma'am…Miss Lewis." He stumbled over his words. The other men laughed. Annoyed, JD said, "Everyone, get back to work!" 

"Yes, sir!" all three men said in unison, followed by more good-natured laughter. 

"Chris makes it seem so easy," JD muttered to himself, picking up a sensor and joining his crew.

============___________________============

"NICE OF YOU TO JOIN US, STUD," Buck Wilmington said as Chris entered their ready room. "Err, sir," he amended at the look Chris shot him, catching sight of Agent May coming in behind him. "Guess we know why you're late…sir." Buck shot him a grin, not at all daunted by the glare his CO gave him in return.

"Entirely my fault, Agent Wilmington—I wanted to make sure the perimeter was secure," May said innocently. 

Next to Buck, Vin snickered as Larabee's glare deepened. 

"And is the perimeter secure, Agent May?" Buck asked with equal innocence.

"Oh, absolutely." She nodded, poking Chris in the ribs with her elbow. "Isn't that right, Agent Larabee?" 

Chris closed his eyes and hung his head, as if looking for strength. Then he ran his eyes across the others. "You're all very funny, so if we're done here? This isn't a coffee klatch, agents."

Ignoring him, Buck said, "Why you are a sight for sore eyes, Agent May."

"It's nice to be missed." She stepped closer to Buck. "By the way, Wilmington, I hear you make a real nice cup of coffee. How about you get me one?"

Now it was Chris' turn to laugh, Vin joining in, at the look on their teammate's face. 

"Does everyone in the agency know about me and that thing with Romanoff?" Buck exclaimed. 

"Not everyone," May replied, a twinkle in her eye. "Just Level Seven agents and above."

"Aw, there now, Buckling, you're famous!" Vin crowed, slapping the big man on the back. 

"Perfect," Buck muttered.

============___________________============

"JUST HOW OLD ARE YOU, SON?" Ezra asked JD. They'd finished placing the sensors, and now, Darcy and Nathan were taking readings.

"Old enough," he snapped defensively. 

Ezra raised his hands in a placating gesture. "I meant no disrespect, Agent Dunne. I am merely curious as to how such a seemingly competent agent could be so young."

Mollified, JD shrugged. "Sorry." He made a pattern in the sandy ground with the toe of his boot. "My mom got sick when I was about 13. We lived in Boston, and the doctors said that maybe the country would help, so we moved to Iowa, where she had some family. A cousin took me on at his farm. Money was tight, and mom couldn't work much," he explained.

"And from Iowa, you ended up as a secret agent?"

"Sorta." JD grinned. "See, I was good with mechanical things: cars, crop dusters, tractors, combines. You name it; I can break it down and put it back together again. They used to call me 'MacGyver'. And I'm a good pilot—crop-dusting, barnstorming. If it can fly, I'm your guy."

"A prodigy," Ezra commented with no mockery.

He shrugged. "Some of my teachers said that. One of them put my name in for a Stark Industries scholarship to MIT when I was 16." 

"A laudable accomplishment." 

"I got it, the scholarship, but mom took a turn for the worse, and I couldn't leave her. So I turned it down." JD fell silent, and Ezra squeezed his shoulder. Swallowing, JD whispered, "She died a year later."

"I am sorry."

JD visibly gathered himself. A part of him wondered why he was sharing such personal details of his life with a man who was being detained by SHIELD, an ex-con, but he continued with his story. "Not long after mom died, a man came through; his fancy car broke down just outside of town. I'd never seen anything like it, had to order parts from Des Moines, but I fixed it for him. A few weeks later I got contacted, with an offer to attend SHIELD's academy. They told me later the guy was an agent, Coulson, and he'd recommended me. That broken down fancy car changed my life." 

"God works in mysterious ways," Josiah intoned , having joined them unnoticed.

"I suppose he does," JD said. "Never planned on being a secret agent, but it sure as heck ain't boring." He grinned. 

"I wouldn't suppose it would be," Josiah said with a matching grin. "And it gives me hope, young Agent Dunne." 

"What about you, Ezra? What's your story?" JD asked. 

Ezra never responded, throwing JD to the ground as a blue flash of light exploded from in front of them. "Everyone down!" he shouted, as the Humvee behind them exploded in a brilliant ball of orange flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a reminder that this takes place several years before Agents of SHILED, and the 'Cavalry' incident hasn't happened yet. This Melinda May is the one I imagine from before that event changed her life.


	4. It Takes a Ninja

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to get one more part written and posted before I go on vacation. Hope you enjoy it!

"WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" JD Dunne's young voice issued from the communications console. "Unknown hostiles. Repeat, we're—" An explosion sounded, drowning out JD's voice, replaced by static. 

The team was already moving, grabbing gear as they headed out the door, accompanied by Agent May. The four agents loaded into the armoured Humvee, Chris pulling out of the base with a scream of tires against gravel, almost before they'd had a chance to sit down. Next to him, May tried to reestablish communications. "Anything?"

"No. Whatever it is, it's blocking all signals within a twenty-five mile radius," she replied. 

"Some sort of EM pulse?" Buck asked from behind her as he loaded a sidearm. 

"Maybe."

"Guess we'll find out when we get there," Vin said, sounding as calm as if they were just taking a drive to the park—but his eyes told a different story.

============___________________============

THERE WAS AN EXPLOSION that left JD's ears ringing, followed by a low hum that made his teeth ache. "Can you read?" he shouted into his walkie-talkie. All he got was static. "Dammit!" He could only hope that he'd got a message out, or they were on their own.

He surveyed the scene. Nathan and Darcy were pinned down behind the remains of an old stone wall, while he, Josiah, and Ezra had scrambled into the dubious cover of a mound of boulders next to an outcropping of rock. He could just make out Nathan and Darcy from his vantage point, relieved that the Army veteran had come armed, seeing the gun in his hand. Darcy held her ever-present Taser, and JD prayed to God that whoever was out there never got close enough for her to have to use it. 

"I'd say there are at least seven," Josiah said, as a shot whistled over their head. He looked to where Nathan and Darcy huddled behind the wall. "We need to create a diversion, get them over here."

"And just what did you have in mind?" Ezra asked.

Josiah pulled a smoke grenade off his bandolier. "Set this off and lay down covering fire, long enough for Nathan to get him and the girl across." 

"Sounds like a plan," JD agreed. Leaning back, he signaled to Nathan, who nodded his understanding.

"May I point out that if I had a weapon I could aid in establishing a wider field of fire?" Ezra said, looking at JD expectantly. The young agent looked doubtful.

"Not like he's going anywhere," Josiah pointed out.

"Yeah." Decision made, JD handed Ezra a handgun. 

"My thanks, Agent Dunne," Ezra said sincerely.

Sanchez's grenade worked exactly as planned, bullets going astray in the resultant smoke as Nathan and Darcy bolted across the open. Reaching the others, Nathan shoved Darcy down behind the rocks, Ezra catching her before she hit the ground. He pushed her head down, firing his pistol over the top of her when it looked like the enemy was using their diversion as one of their own, a man in black advancing towards their position, before he quickly pulled back.

"Thanks, Ez," Darcy said breathlessly. 

"My pleasure, Miss Lewis."

"You gave the man a gun?" Nathan's outraged voice rang out. Before JD could respond, he continued. "Goddamnit, those shooters out there could be here to spring him, and you give him a weapon!" 

"How dare you, sir!" Ezra was pale, his green eyes large. "I demand you apologize for the insult!"

"The hell I will! You're bad news, Standish, and hopefully, they'll realize that before you put a bullet in their backs!"

Josiah grabbed Standish as he launched himself at Nathan, incensed. "Stand down, brother. We got troubles enough out there."

"That is enough!" JD shouted. "We're pinned down, maybe on our own, and running low on ammo. Standish keeps the gun until we're out of this. You got that, Jackson?" 

"Got it."

Then Darcy screamed, and what happened next was almost a blur. Two men had come over the rock face, trying to take them from behind. The first one rushed Darcy, who was closest, getting tased for his trouble, but his partner kicked the Taser from her grasp, bringing up his gun to fire. Ezra launched himself onto a boulder, and then catapulted into the air, tumbling in midair to land behind the man threatening Darcy. Hitting him from behind, Ezra drove the man to his knees. Their assailant twisted as he hit the ground, bringing his gun around, getting off a shot. Ezra's face was a study in shock as the bullet slammed into him, and he crumpled unconscious to the dusty ground. 

 

CHRIS USED THE HUMVEE AS BATTERING RAM, smashing it into the enemy combatants from behind, incapacitating several of them, and scattering the few remaining, leaving them scrambling for cover. The vehicle screeched to a halt, the four agents quickly exiting and taking up position.

"Let's finish this," Larabee rapped out.

"Yes, sir," came the reply in unison from the others. 

It didn’t take long for the agents to contain the situation, the remaining enemy either dead or taken prisoner. 

"The next time Doctor Foster wants help, I'm sending heavy weaponry along," Chris shouted out as they approached the rest of the team in their rocky fort.

"Standish has been shot!" JD yelled. "We need a medical kit and evac to the hospital."

"On it!" Vin said, racing back to the Humvee. 

Chris, Buck, and Melinda ran towards the others. Nathan was pressing a folded up shirt against Ezra's upper chest, the material already drenched in blood, and Josiah was holding his head in his big hands, as if Ezra was a child. "Hang in there, Standish," Nathan said softly. "Gotta let me apologize for being an ass, don't you?" 

Ezra's lips twisted into a pained smile, his eyes fluttering open. "I think I can manage that, Nurse Jackson."

"You do that, Ezra, you do that," Nathan whispered as Ezra once more fell unconscious. 

"Report, JD." Chris looked expectantly at the young agent. 

"Unknown assailants destroyed our transport and disabled communications. We were pinned down here. Two hostiles came at us from behind, tried to shoot Miss Lewis. Then Ezra happened." JD waved at the wounded man. 

"What do you mean, 'happened'?" Vin asked, having rejoined them, giving the medical kit to Buck, who was already opening it, crouching next to Nathan to assist the medic. 

"Dunno how to explain it." JD replied, shrugging. "He moved faster than anyone I've ever seen."

"Like a ninja!" Darcy said excitedly, her near death experience not seeming to have fazed her in the least. 

"A ninja?" Vin had a bemused smile on his face. 

"Yeah. One minute, bad dude has a gun on me, next minute, Ez sails over him takes him out, saves my life. It was totally sick!"

"Means cool, old man," Vin said to Chris mischievously. 

Chris glared. "I know what it means, Tanner."

"Sure you do," Melinda said with a grin.

"What Darcy said." JD rubbed his eyes. "It was something else."

"We'll talk about it more when we get back home," Chris said. "For now, let's get Standish to the hospital, and get this area secured. We got a few prisoners trussed up back there; we'll see what we can get from them."

"I've called for more agents to help with buttoning the place down." Melinda surveyed the scene. "Wonder what they were after?"

"No idea." Chris looked thoughtful. "Jane Foster said she'd got energy readings out here. Once we've secured the scene, we'll bring her out to assess the area; see what she can come up with." He turned to Melinda. "You're the best interrogator I know. Think we could keep you around for a few days?"

"You say the sweetest things, Agent Larabee." She flicked her hair over her shoulder. "Not a problem, I'll use some vacation time I have coming."

"I'll owe you one." Chris winked.

"You better believe it, Larabee!"

In the distance, the sound of an approaching chopper could be heard. 

"Life Flight's nearly here," Vin said. "We'll get Ez patched up, and then I'm going to have a serious talk with our ninja about taking crazy chances."

============___________________============


End file.
